But the Anglo-Indian did not flinch. He was looking at the verger now with a quiet steady gaze, which seemed that of a man who had nothing to fear, and who was serene and undisturbed by reason of his innocence.
"We don't want to know what you think," the coroner said; "you must tell us only what you are certain of."
"Then I'm not certain, sir."
"You are not certain that Mr. Dunbar was absent for an hour?"
"Not quite certain, sir."
"But very nearly certain. Is that so?"
"Yes, sir, I'm very nearly certain. You see, sir, when the two gentlemen went through the yard, the cathedral clock was chiming the quarter after four; I remember that. And when Mr. Dunbar came back, I was just going away to my tea, and I seldom go to my tea until it's gone five."
"But supposing it to have struck five when Mr. Dunbar returned, that would only make it three quarters of an hour after the time at which he went through the yard, supposing him to have gone through, as you say, at the quarter past four."
The verger scratched his head again.
"I'd been loiterin' about yesterday afternoon, sir," he said; "and I was a bit late thinkin' of my tea."